Even Doctors Get Sick
by Dana Katherine
Summary: When the good doctor is sick his number one patient is the one to take care of him. Rated T for mild swearing.
1. The Doctor is Sick

Title: Even Doctors Get Sick

Rating: T There is some mild swearing. This is just to be safe.

Summary: When the good doctor is sick his number one patient is the one to take care of him.

Disclaimer: Although I wish I owned it (or at least one of them) I don't.

A/N: Ok, I'm one of the many newcomers to the Star Trek world after watching the new movie…but that's what they wanted right? I've watched very few of the original series and although I've done a little research I still don't know a whole lot. This is my best shot at being accurate and if you see mistakes, please let me know. But don't flame. If your reviews on fire I'm not going to read it, ok? Hope you enjoy this!

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His head swam violently and his vision blurred around the edges as he brought himself into a seated position on the edge of his bed. He lowered his head slightly and took slow breaths, willing away the nausea that rose in his stomach. He scrubbed one hand at his face, pausing for a moment before flipping it over and feeling his forehead with the back. He frowned slightly at the realization that his fever had increased since his last observation. He sat still for a few moments more until the vertigo had eased and then gently rose to a standing position. He took note of his weak knees but then ignored them as he trudged his way to the small bathroom.

Once there he ordered the lights on with instant regret. His head pounded intensely and the nausea rose again. He took several deep breaths and splashed his face with water until the feeling ebbed again. He took a look at his reflection in the mirror and was slightly startled at his own appearance. His eyes were bright with fever, ringed with dark, sickly skin. The rest of his face was about three shades lighter than normal, except in his cheeks where the fever also showed itself. His head swam again and he braced himself against the sink, leaning his forehead against the blissfully cool mirror. He hadn't had one sick day in the close to two years he had been aboard the Enterprise and he didn't want to start now. However, since he had hardly managed to make it the ten feet from his bed to where he was standing now, he was pretty sure he wouldn't make it to sickbay. Letting out a small groan he ordered the light back off and exited the bathroom.

Once he was back in the main room he ordered the computer to page Nurse Chapel in sickbay. He waited impatiently during the brief lapse before she responded.

"Dr. McCoy?"

"Yeah," he said before trying to muffle a few coughs that would give him away. "I have a few things I need to attend to before I report this morning." _Like sleep,_ he thought. "Can you handle things without me for a while?"

"Sure, doctor."

"Alright, thanks." As soon as the communication ended he stumbled back to sit on the edge of his bed. He sat for a moment, longing for a hypo full of painkillers, or even some good old-fashioned aspirin. Having no energy to acquire either he simply collapsed back into the bed, heaving a loud sigh before falling back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Back in sickbay, Nurse Chapel was still pondering the odd page from Dr. McCoy. It certainly was plausible that he had duties to attend to on other parts of the ship, but he had sounded a little strange. He also had a couple of appointments set for this morning, including the Captain. He hadn't asked her to cancel them for him, but she decided to anyways figuring that they had probably just slipped from his mind, which in itself was unusual. They weren't anything of a pressing manner; they were just the routine physicals that the crew members were required to have every few months. She made the necessary calls to cancel the appointments, the Captain being the last. After this she looked around the sickbay, and not seeing any patients that needed her immediate care she sat down at her desk to update a few patient padds, all the while still trying to find an underlying cause to the CMO's absence.

* * *

Jim Kirk was walking at a hurried pace through the hallway. He had just been paged on the bridge by Nurse Chapel regarding the cancellation of his physical. Although he was relieved not to have to submit for it, he was a little worried. It was usually him that was trying to avoid any trip to sick bay, and Bones usually had to come drag him off of the bridge to get anything accomplished. But now the doctor had been the one to cancel, and as far as he knew there were no matters pressing enough to keep the CMO out of the office and that denied him a chance to torture the Captain.

As he stepped off the lift he stopped abruptly at the sight of two young cadets, new to the crew, coming to attention and saluting him. _I'll never get used to that_, he thought. He threw them back a lazy salute and hurried on his way to the doctor's quarters. He stopped outside the door and glanced briefly at the brass name plate stating "Dr. Leonard McCoy, CMO". It was the same action that he subconsciously did outside of his own door, never quite believing his own plate proclaiming, "Captain James T. Kirk". He knocked on the door and waited a few brief moments before knocking again a little louder. He knew the doctor was in there, he had checked his location before leaving the bridge. The fact that he was still in his quarters is what had driven the Captain to come up here. In the five years he had known him he had never seen Bones sleep in this late. Even on weekends back at the academy he would be up before the sun, either studying or getting ready for a shift at the clinic.

When a third knock failed to rouse the doctor, Jim punched in his security code and the door slid open with a hiss of air. He stepped inside the room, his eyes trying to see through the darkness. The door slid closed suddenly behind him, and all of the light from the hallway was doused. He took a few steps inside, forgetting about the small coffee table, and winced as his shin bone struck the edge of the wood. Fighting back a string of swear words he finally commanded the computer to turn the lights on to their lowest setting, deciding that not breaking something was more important than not disturbing the doctor. Once they were on, he quickly scanned the room before his eyes landed at the far wall where he could make out a crumpled form on the bed. When he got closer he noticed the man's breathing was faster than normal, and his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"Bones?" he called softly as he put one hand on the doctor's shoulder. He could feel the fever present even through the black Starfleet undershirt the other man was wearing. The intensity startled him and he shook the shoulder, trying to get an answer from the doctor. "Bones wake up," he ordered the sleeping figure. This was awarded by a small groan, and with the next nudge the doctor finally opened his eyes, glaring at the young Captain.

"Dammit, Jim. I was sleeping," he growled. Jim noticed the words were slightly slurred and held more of a drawl than usual.

"Sleeping or unconscious from fever?" he shot back, though his tone held no bite. "Are you thirsty?" he inquired to the semi-conscious form. He thought he caught glimpse of a nod and, not caring either way, spun around and walked over to the replicator. He ordered a room temperature glass of water, remembering Bones telling him something about fevers and cold water and a shock to the system. He made his way back to the bed and sat the glass down on the side table. He watched for a few seconds as the fevered man tried to push up into a sitting position. Finally, not wanting to watch him struggle anymore, he grabbed his friend under the arms and hauled him into a sitting position, leaning him back against the wall. He thought he heard the other man grumbling something about pride and embarrassment, but ignored the comments and handed him the glass of water. He watched the shaky hands struggle to hold the glass, and took it back as soon as Bones was finished in order to prevent a spill.

"Thanks," was all the hoarse voice could say before it was cut short by a round of coughing. Jim brushed the other man's brow again and frowned.

"You're burning up. I'm going to go to medical bay and get Nurse Chapel, ok? Don't go anywhere," he said with a look of concern before heading out of the quarters.

Not even having energy to try and protest all the ailing man could do was mumble a few curses as he slid back down into a lying position and slipped back into unconsciousness.

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Hope you're enjoying the torture of Bones so far. I figured Jim gets hurt enough that it should fall on someone else for a change. Again, let me know of any inaccuracies…nicely please!


	2. Damn Vulcan Flu

See first chapter for information!

A/N: Ok, first off I want to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews. In the last chapter I admitted that I'm a Star Trek newbie and don't know a whole lot. I have done a little research, and that included looking up Star Trek medical conditions to fit what I wanted. I couldn't really find one until I came upon the Vulcan flu. There wasn't a whole lot about it, just that humans rarely get it, and when they do it's pretty severe. I figured Bones getting an illness that is hard for humans to contract would be perfect. Like I said, though, there wasn't a lot of information so I'm kind of making it up as I go. I hope you enjoy it anyways, and keep the wonderful reviews coming! On with the story…

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The next time he woke up he thought he must be in heaven because all he could see when he opened his eyes was the color gold. He blinked his eyes a few times to be sure, and had just about proved his hypothesis when he felt a stinging in his neck. That didn't fit with his picture of heaven so he rolled his head back to get a different look. This time when he opened his eyes he was face to face with Jim.

"Bones you're awake," the younger man said with a grin. And even though the doctor's brain was fuzzy with sleep and fever, and his eyes didn't want to stay open, he could still see the concerned creasing of his friend's face. He suddenly realized that two sets of hands, one belonging to Jim he was sure and the other unknown, were gently rolling him onto his back. With this he pieced that he must have been rolled to get a better shot at his neck for a hypo, which all seemed perfectly normal except that the hands were touching his bare skin where his shirt should have been.

"Where are my clothes?" he slurred heavily as he fought to stay conscious. He thought he could hear Jim chuckle lightly, but he wasn't sure.

"You're fever's too high, Dr. McCoy, and we needed to start cooling you down," came a voice from the left side of the bed, opposite Jim. He recognized the voice as Nurse Chapel's and figured the extra set of hands must have been hers.

"My ass is hanging out?"

This time he was sure that Kirk chuckled. "No, Bones, your ass isn't hanging out. Your boxers are still on." Bones did relax at this, but the fact that they had stripped him without him waking up was unnerving as he was generally a light sleeper. He forced his eyes open again and noticed another presence in the room, this one standing next to Jim. It was one of the new doctors that had boarded the Enterprise just before this mission had begun. He couldn't place his name at the moment, but he did notice that the man was thoroughly scanning up and down his body.

"Dr. McCoy," started the slightly older doctor. He waited until the ill man's eyes were trained on him before he continued. "I can't get a firm diagnosis from the scanner so I'm going to run some of your blood, alright?" McCoy felt a tourniquet on his left arm and then a needle being inserted as Nurse Chapel drew some blood. He also noticed that Jim was looking everywhere in the room but at the needle. He felt himself slipping back into sleep, only barely noticing as the needle was taken from his arm and his nurse and doctor leaving the quarters. He also heard a few words spoken between them and Jim, but he couldn't understand them.

* * *

The next time he was woken up couldn't have been too long after the last because he was still in the same position he remembered falling asleep in, except he was now covered by a sheet. His skin still felt prickly from fever, but his thoughts were less muddy. Whatever they had injected him with must already be easing the fever. He opened his eyes and was once again face to face with Jim. He wondered how many times he would wake up with the Captain staring at him today. Which reminded him…

"Why aren't you on the bridge?" he asked groggily.

"Dr. Oberon said you didn't have to go to sick bay if someone stayed here with you," he said, as if it explained why he was the one staying.

Oberon…that's that guy's name. "You don't have to be the one to stay."

"Of course I do, Bones. You've been taking care of me for five years and now's my chance to take care of you. Besides, Oberon said that I could give you your next shot," he said with a grin.

Bones groaned at this statement and tried to rearrange himself on the bed, the movement reminding him how badly his body ached. "I feel like shit."

"Of course you do, you have the flu, and not just any kind. Remember when Spock came back from New Vulcan with the flu?"

McCoy thought about this for a minute before realization sunk in. "This is the Vulcan flu?" Against his better judgment he pushed himself up in bed to get a better look at Jim, and felt his head swim violently. "That green-blooded hobgoblin gave me this?" At this point he lost his morning-long fight with the nausea and clamped his hand over his mouth. As if expecting such a thing to happen, Jim produced a trashcan from beside the bed and held it for his friend.

"Oberon told me this might happen, too," the younger man said as he placed his free hand on the other's back. It was still too warm.

Each heave caused the pounding in his head to intensify and his body to tremble a little harder. By the time he was done he was slicked with sweat and his head had a jackhammer in it. Jim sat the trashcan down and grabbed the glass of water from earlier off of the nightstand and handed it to him. Although McCoy took the glass with both hands Jim still had to keep one hand in place to ensure it stayed steady. When he was finished Jim sat the glass back down and helped him lay back down on the bed. He couldn't help but mumble a few things about the damn Vulcan flu and how Spock would pay. "Thanks," he whispered as Jim pulled the sheet up over him.

"Anytime," the other man replied, not able to hide the concern from his voice. Dr. Oberon had explained to him that humans very rarely contracted the Vulcan flu, and when they did they experienced severe illness. He had given Jim a vaccine against it, and planned to vaccinate anyone who would come in contact with him just in case, even though transmission from human to human had never been reported. He sighed as he watched the doctor started to shiver under the sheet. He pulled a light blanket from the closet and covered him up and then turned and sat in the desk chair rolling it over closer to the bed. He propped his feet up on the edge of the mattress and settled in to keep watch over his ailing friend, chuckling lightly when a barely coherent "dammit" arose from him.

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A/N: Ok, I hope you enjoyed it…even with my semi-made up illness. Thanks again for all the reviews!


	3. Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup

See first chapter for information!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews! I'm glad you all accepted my idea so well, and I hope you continue to enjoy what I write!

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The next time he surfaced into the land of the living he was pretty sure it was under his own power. He tentatively opened his eyes and only saw the ceiling, not any eyes staring back at him. Good, that was starting to get creepy. He took a survey of how he felt and decided he was in the same general shitty condition. He felt a movement on the bed next to him and looked over to find Jim's feet inching their way closer to him as the other man slid down his seat, asleep. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped when he thought about how if he had the energy he would push the feet off the bed, which would most certainly cause the Captain to slide from his chair.

"Jim?" he called out with almost no volume. He shifted in bed and noticed that the sheets were stuck all over his body with sweat. "Gross," he muttered to himself as he tried to free himself from the entanglement. The effort tired him out and he collapsed back on the pillow with a groan. "Jim?" he called again with a bit more force. This didn't get any results either, and not having the energy to try again did the only other thing he could think of, he draped his arm over his eyes and ordered the computer to raise the lights to 100 percent. At least it could hear him.

When the lights flashed brighter the previously sleeping captain started in his seat and nearly slid all the way down to the floor. He righted himself and then ordered the lights back down. "I'm sorry, Bones, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he apologized as he checked the temperature of the other man's forehead.

Bones waved it off with a weak flick of his hand. "Just take me to the bathroom," he replied hoarsely as he finished extracting himself from under the sheet. Jim stood up and helped him come to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

It was at this moment he knew he should be terribly embarrassed. He was sitting, sweaty and trembling, on the edge of his bed in nothing more than his boxer shorts, and the only reason he got to this position is because Jim had practically drug him upright. And it wasn't the first time today. But for some reason he wasn't. Maybe it was because he had met Jim at probably the lowest point in his life; when they had met on that shuttle he was crushed from the end of his marriage, drunk and unshaven and on the verge of hysteria. If the younger man had accepted him then, surely he wouldn't think any less of him now.

"Bones, you alright?" questioned the other man. Of course he wasn't alright. At this very moment he was trying not to throw-up on the Captain's shoes. But before he snapped back a sarcastic remark he realized he was leaning way to the left and the younger man was struggling to keep him upright. He righted himself and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry." About this time the door to his quarters hissed opened and Dr. Oberon entered, carrying a scanner and a hypo.

"How are you feeling Dr. McCoy?" asked the older doctor as he began scanning the half-naked man. McCoy felt himself shiver despite his efforts to stay still. "Your fever hasn't gone down any, but it also hasn't risen. We'll give you this dose and I'll be back in about 30 minutes to check on you alright? Here you go, Jim."

McCoy looked up just in time to see Jim receive the hypo as Oberon showed him where to inject it. He groaned as the hypo was deployed, not so much from the pain but from the look of excitement on Jim's face.

"You're right, Bones. That is fun," stated the blonde as he handed the hypo back to the standing doctor. Oberon said a few more words and then left the quarters. "Ready?" inquired Jim.

"Yeah, after you get me a shirt. I don't want you looking at me in just my boxers anymore."

"A little shy, are we?" question the younger man as he opened a drawer of the dresser and pulled out a civilian t-shirt. Bones eyed him, curious as to how he knew where his t-shirts were kept, but then remembered he had once caught Jim going through his clothes looking for a shirt to wear on a date.

"No, I just don't think you can keep your hands to yourself," quipped the doctor as he accepted the shirt and, with great effort, pulled it on over his head. Once he was finished Jim stooped and pulled one of his arms around his neck and slowly lifted him to his feet.

"Sorry, Bones, you're not really my type," he smirked as he led his friend to the bathroom. "Need any help in there?"

"Not since before you were born," muttered McCoy as he stepped into the bathroom. Jim watched as the door slid shut behind him, and then shook his head and chuckled lightly. He waited until the doctor reappeared and then led him back to the bed. About half-way there the doctor's knees weakened and almost sent them both to the floor. "Dammit," he cursed as Jim righted them both.

Once they were headed towards the bed again, Jim looked over and could see the look of pure frustration etched in the other man's face. The last time he remembered being anywhere near this sick was when he had the Earth flu. He had been about 12 years old, and it had embarrassed him to no end that his mother had to help him to the bathroom. Of course at that age, having your mother do anything for you is embarrassing.

As soon as McCoy sat down on the bed bed, his stomach growled. He had to resist the urge to glare down at it. How could he be nauseous and hungry at the same time? Apparently the younger man had heard it as well, and he was sure Jim couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

"Hungry?" he questioned. He waited as the other man pondered the question for a moment before offering the old Earth remedy for illness. "I could make some chicken noodle soup," he stated. He watched as the doctor's lips turned up slightly at the suggestion. "Alright, I could have the replicator whip up some chicken noodle soup."

Bones thought it over for a moment and agreed to try some. Jim turned to the replicator, ordering up a bowl of "homemade" soup. Once he retrieved the bowl he found the small TV tray that he knew Bones kept in his room, mostly for Jim to use when he came to visit. He set the tray up in front of his friend and placed the soup on it. Once everything was in place he plopped himself on the bed, mostly just to keep the doctor upright.

Bones had eaten maybe four bites of the soup before he felt it start to creep up on him. He pushed the bowl away and made to lie down in the bed. Jim frowned, he knew the doctor needed to eat, but also knew he couldn't force him. Once he was settled in the bed, Jim cleaned up the rest of the soup and sat back in the desk chair to keep watch over the ailing man.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon went pretty much the same way. Jim kept watch, keeping tabs on the other's fever, which climbed several times and resulted in several trips by Dr. Oberon to administer various hyposprays to the slightly incoherent man. He watched as his friend was sick into the trashcan, more times than not, when he climbed to consciousness, and frowned severely as he watched the sleeping form tremble and sweat under the covers.

He watched all the way until 1700 hours when Spock showed up at the quarters. "Has the doctor's condition improved any since the last status update?" questioned the Vulcan.

Jim shook his head. "No, in fact Oberon says he'll probably get worse before he gets better. No one's exactly sure since there are not very many cases of a human with the Vulcan flu."

Spock nodded. "My shift on the bridge is complete, so I will take up watch here so that you may return to your own quarters."

"Why do I need to return to my quarters?"

"So that you may rest and partake of some nutrition."

Jim shook his head again. "I just ate, and I took a nap earlier. Besides, you've been on the bridge all day doing my work. Don't you want to go rest?"

The Vulcan shook his head this time. "I do not require the amount of sleep that you do, Captain. I certainly have enough stamina to keep watch over Dr. McCoy for a few hours."

"I'll be fine."

"You will do no one, especially the doctor, any good if you let yourself become physically worn out. I do suggest, however, that since we are simply traveling at this time that you and I watch over Dr. McCoy. I have already experienced this illness and you are already exposed. It would be the most logical choice."

Jim smirked; that man had a way with words. "Alright, Mr. Spock, you win." He headed out the door before turning around and eying his First Officer. "I must warn you, though. Dr. McCoy may be pretty pissed when he wakes up and finds you sitting by his bed." With that he exited the quarters, leaving the Vulcan sitting there with a slightly upturned eyebrow.

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A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. I hit a block wall and had to take a couple of days to recover from the resulting concussion. (Metaphorically of course) I hope that this chapter stands up to the rest, and that Spock sounded….like Spock. Thanks for the reviews, and for alerting my story. It means a lot!


	4. Bones Knows How to Get Sick

See first chapter for information!

A/N: Ok, I admit I've never written for Spock. As far as the reviews went some were very impressed with Spock, and some felt he was too robotic. He did feel robotic to me too; I guess I was trying too hard. Anyways, I hope he's better this chapter!

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Spock had been in the room for exactly two hours and twenty-seven minutes when the doctor began to stir. He was seated on the floor in the corner, legs crossed and in a light meditation. He opened his eyes at the sound of the rustling, but did not rise immediately.

"Jim?" called a weak voice from the bed that was cut short by a round of chest wracking coughs. Curious, he didn't remember the Captain mentioning severe coughing. With this he rose and walked over to stand by the bed.

"The Captain returned to his quarters for a few hours in order to rest. Is there something you require?"

The man on the bed fought to stay conscious, his thoughts barely coherent, swirling and running from his grasp. "Water, please," he finally managed to croak. He waited while his caretaker retrieved his request and concentrated on what was clawing at his subconscious…something he wanted to remember.

"Here you are, Doctor," he offered as McCoy struggled to sit up. After a few brief moments he fell back against the pillow in resignation. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. God he was sick. "Allow me to help." Spock leaned over and easily lifted the doctor's head off of the pillow and held the glass of water while he drank thirstily.

As he settled back against the pillow he groaned. It was bad enough Jim had seen him this sick and had to baby him but now Spock…. "You!" he all but yelled at the Vulcan as he set the glass of water down on the nightstand. "You gave me this!"

"Doctor?"

"This is the Vulcan flu, which you came aboard this ship with!" He groaned again. All of this sudden talking, and anger, was making his headache worse.

"Doctor, if you mean to say that I chose for you to become sick, I did not. I simply…" he was cut short as McCoy, with a strength he hadn't possessed mere moments ago, rolled over in the bed and grabbed the trashcan on the floor. He watched as he was overcome with another round of coughing, and ended up violently throwing up everything in his stomach.

As soon as he was finished he set the trashcan back down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He used the very last of his strength to roll onto his back where he submitted to even more coughing. He felt the Vulcan pulling the sheet up over him and then a hand touching his forehead. He jerked his head away. "Don't touch me," he growled as he slipped back into sleep.

It had been merely ten minutes since the doctor had fallen back asleep that Spock heard the noise. He had given up meditation in order to sit on the desk chair at the bedside as Jim had done. He was watching the doctor carefully now and had noticed his breathing rate had increased. McCoy was also shivering in bed, which he had done most of the day, but now he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. When he started coughing again and didn't wake up, Spock stuck out a hand and brushed his forehead again. He realized that his fever had risen quite dramatically. When the doctor still failed to come around he instructed the computer to page Dr. Oberon to the quarters for an emergency.

Jim skidded to a halt outside of Bones' quarters. He had just crawled into bed to catch a quick nap when Oberon had commed him and told him that he had received an emergency page to Dr. McCoy's room. He punched in his access code and as soon as the door slid open he heard the coughing. He stepped into the room and bit back a gasp at what he saw. Bones was laid out on top of the covers stripped of his shirt again; shivering so violently the bed trembled lightly. Oberon was over the top of him, scanning him fiercely, and when Jim got closer he could see just how sick his friend was.

"What's wrong with him?" he demanded. Oberon finished his scan before looking up.

"His fever has spiked to almost 105 and he has fluid in his lungs."

"What does that mean?" he demanded again. He was losing his patience now.

"It means he has pneumonia. I need a gurney so I can get him to sick bay so that I can monitor his vitals and start him on some IV antibiotics," he explained as he readied a hypo.

"I can carry him for you, Doctor," Spock offered. Jim briefly thought about how Bones would kill him later for allowing the green-blooded hobgoblin to carry him, unconscious and half-naked, through the ship to sickbay. But that was to worry about later.

"Alright, let's go," said Oberon as he finished his injection. Spock easily lifted McCoy off of the bed and walked out into the hallway. Oberon and Jim were right behind him.

"I thought he had the Vulcan flu," said Jim as they hurried through the hallway.

"He does."

"Well is this because of the flu?" They rounded a corner and a few crew members stopped in a group and stared at the processional. They quickly scurried away, though, once Jim gave them a look.

"No. Lots of times the same infection causes them both, but the Vulcan flu is viral and his pneumonia is bacterial. That explains why it came on so suddenly." With this they arrived in sick bay and Oberon led them to one of the isolation rooms, shutting the door behind them. Spock laid the shivering figure on the bed and Jim frowned at him.

"Jeez, Bones. You sure know how to get sick." Jim watched as two nurses came in wearing isolation gowns, masks and gloves. One of them turned her attention to Bones, starting an IV and hooking him up to the monitors. The other one carried an extra set of isolation items and assisted Dr. Oberon in putting them on. He suddenly felt very exposed. "I feel a little underdressed for the occasion."

Oberon turned his attention back to his patient as he spoke. "You and Commander Spock are already exposed to the illness; isolation now will do you no good. The two of you are also possible spreaders for the bacteria, and since I can't have a ship-wide pneumonia infection I'm going to have to quarantine the two of you here."

"Excuse me?" Spock questioned with only the slightest twitch of an eyebrow.

Ignoring the Vulcan, Dr. Oberon looked at Jim. "When you left Dr. McCoy's quarters earlier did you go anywhere before you went to your own?"

Jim shook his head. "I had intended to go to the cafeteria, but I ran across a yeoman who offered to bring me my dinner."

Oberon nodded, pleased with the answer, and finished checking the attachments to the younger doctor. "I'll have the nurses bring you both a bed. You need to stay in this room for at least two days. After that time period I'll be able to take a blood sample and determine whether you've been infected. Make a list of anything you'll need from your quarters and give that to one of the nurses when they bring in the beds." He made his way to the door, but paused before he exited. "Neither of you are to leave this room until I clear you, do you understand?" When both of the men nodded their understanding he left, leaving the Captain and his First Officer standing in the middle room.

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A/N: Ok, I admit I'm not a doctor, but I'm trying to make this as medically accurate as I can. I sure hope you enjoy this twist; I just couldn't resist torturing Bones a bit more. And the three of them in one room for two days? Hm…


	5. Quarantined in Sick Bay

See first chapter for information!

A/N: I want to thank everyone that took the time to leave a review, favorite the story, and/or put it on their alert list. I can't believe how many people are following this story and it makes me feel really good. Ok, so the last plot twist I hadn't planned. It just kind of ended up on the paper, so I'm hoping that I can make it work. :D

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The door hissed shut behind Dr. Oberon, and Jim could hear him setting up an access code that would only allow medical personnel to enter the room. He looked over at Spock, still standing erect with his hands clasped behind his back as always, and then over to Bones, pale and sweaty and hooked up to numerous tubes and wires. And then he thought about the next two days and he suddenly became very tired. Truth be told, he hadn't really slept the night before—he'd had a date. When he looked back to Spock he found the Vulcan looking back.

"Well, Spock. I guess we need to inform the bridge of what's happening." He took a step but Spock held up a hand.

"I can handle that, Captain. You should sit and relax, you look quite tired." Not giving Jim a chance to protest he turned and walked over to the computer's wall panel. Jim took his advice, grabbing one of the two small chairs in the room and slid it over closer to Bones' bed and sat down.

He watched as Spock relayed information to the bridge, and went over several tasks that needed to be completed in their absence. Although at the moment they were simply cruising through space in three days they would be meeting an ambassador from the Federation's newest planet, and there was much to be done before his arrival. When he finished he picked up the PADD one of the nurses had left for them to make their lists on, and punched in a few items he would need. When he finished with this task he handed the object to Jim and then retreated to the far corner of the room and sat on the floor, cross-legged, and resumed his meditation from earlier.

Jim thought for a moment and then decided on what he would need; some clothes, a few items from the bathroom, something to read, and whatever paperwork the bridge sent for him. Once he finished he returned the PADD to the table and then sat back in his chair and sighed, glancing over at his first officer again. They had come a long way since they met, almost two years ago. Enough that Jim felt sure that Spock wouldn't try to strangle him again, even with some strong button-pushing (which he had been told was an illogical statement since Spock actually had no buttons). That being said, they had never been stuck in a room together for two days straight before, although this was technically two rooms since it had its own bathroom. And Bones…well he wasn't going to like this one bit when he woke up.

It wasn't long before their beds and personal items arrived and they both quickly cleaned up and crawled into bed. It was nearly a new day and they were both exhausted. Spock was the first one to fall asleep, or so Jim thought. He could never be quite sure with that guy. It took Jim quite a while to succumb to sleep, the beeping of the monitors and the clicking of the IV made it hard for him to relax completely. Sure, he had been in hospitals more times than he'd like to admit, but generally he'd have been given a sedative and the noises never seemed to bother him.

Jim was sure he hadn't been asleep that long when he woke. He looked at his watch and saw that it was just past one in the morning. He couldn't figure out why he was awake not even two hours after falling asleep. It was about that time that he noticed a small alarm going off in the room. He could also hear a much more insistent alarm sounding in the main room of sick bay and before he could process it all a masked and gowned figure entered the room. Jim sat up and watched as the man, whom he identified as another doctor, punched some buttons on the small screen that held his friend's vital signs and then the alarm ceased.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked quietly.

The doctor turned to him. "His oxygen saturation levels dropped. I increased the flow of oxygen, and…" he paused a moment while he checked the screen again, "…he's back up to where he should be again." Jim nodded and the doctor left.

Being as quiet as he could, Jim rose from his bed and took the two steps to stand next to Bones. He frowned at the man lying before him and waited several minutes to make sure no more alarms were going to sound. After he had assured himself that Bones was stable for the time being he returned to his own bed and tried to go back to sleep.

* * *

The first thing he noticed upon waking this time was the hissing of the oxygen he was hooked up to. He then noticed that someone had filled his mouth full of cotton and had placed a rather large object on his chest. Or maybe it just felt that way. He tentatively opened his eyes and was awarded with a darkened room. However in doing this he confirmed that he was, in fact, lying in sick bay. He groaned lightly and rolled his head to the side, only to find two more occupied beds.

"I don't even get my own room?" he muttered under his breath. He looked a bit harder and noticed that the figure in the bed closest to his own was that of Jim. What was he doing sleeping in sick bay? And the other….had pointed ears?! That pointy-eared bastard was the last one he saw before he ended up here all hooked up. As soon as he woke up he was going to…

"I see you're awake," came a voice from the other side of the bed. This made McCoy flinch slightly and look back over. He recognized the voice as belonging to Oberon, although it was hard to tell behind the mask.

"Why are they here?" he croaked, his mouth still dry.

"Well, on top of your viral flu you've contracted a bacterial pneumonia." McCoy watched as the doctor checked over his vitals and made a few notes in the PADD he carried. He was sure that statement should have answered his question, but at the moment he couldn't make sense of it. He simply continued looking at the other man until he finished. Oberon, sensing the other man's confusion, continued. "I've quarantined them here with you until I'm sure they won't spread this around. The incubation period for this particular strain is about two days." With that he checked the last few numbers and left the room.

"Two days…" he sighed before it struck him. Oh, God. He was stuck in a room for two days with Jim…and Spock. As if being in sick bay wasn't bad enough. He managed a glance at the clock and realized it was barely 0600. Oberon must just be coming back on shift. He looked again at his two roommates, trying to decide who he could rouse to get a drink of water. Deciding instead that he was too tired to try either he simply closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter will hold the interactions between our three boys. :) Hope this was worth the wait!


	6. Go Fish

See first chapter for information!

A/N: I just want to say that I appreciate all of the wonderful reviews and thanks to everyone who has favorited and/or alerted my story. I am ecstatic at the response this story has gotten!

* * *

It was almost as though the three occupants of the isolation room in sick bay awoke simultaneously. They laid there in silence for a few long moments, not sure if the others were still sleeping or not, until Spock decided that the Captain and Dr. McCoy both had breathing rates that signaled they were indeed awake. He rose to a sitting position on his bed and glanced at the clock, noting the time was 0730.

Jim saw Spock rise from the corner of his eye and looked over at him. He had to fight very hard to hide the grin and chuckle that were working their way up. Spock had bed head. Losing his battle he scrubbed at his face and cleared his throat. Satisfied he wouldn't laugh at his First Officer, he too sat up on his bed and looked over at Bones and saw him looking back with slightly unfocused eyes.

"Hey, Bones. How are you feeling?" Jim got off his bed and went again to stand next to him. He placed a hand up against the doctor's forehead and noticed his fever had started to go down. Giving a nod he looked at Bones expectantly.

"Well, it certainly doesn't help that you two are camped out here for the next two days," he croaked.

"Dr. McCoy, 'camped out' would imply that we were sleeping outside in a tent, would it not?" Spock commented from his position on the bed. Jim watched as Bones' eyes narrowed into a glare and he had to bite back a laugh.

"It's also sometimes used to describe a situation where you're sleeping in a place you don't normally," Jim explained.

"So that is what you call it, Captain? When you do not return to your own quarters after a date?" This time Jim's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Spock. The First Officer's face did not betray the sarcasm, but Jim knew it was there. He watched as the other man rose from the bed and went into the bathroom, and then turned back to the man in bed.

"I do believe that you've had a bad influence on him Jim," snickered Bones. "Could you get me some water, please?"

Jim shook his head but walked around the bed and poured a glass of water from the pitcher. "You know, if I get this from you I hope you'll hold the trashcan for me while _I_ puke." He placed a straw in the cup and then offered it to Bones who took a couple of sips before lying back on the pillows.

"Thanks," he said a bit clearer now that his throat wasn't so dry. Jim sat the cup down and then turned around just in time to see a nurse entering the room carrying a tray that held their breakfasts. He went over and cleared the small table off and helped her lower the tray down. Once she was freed of the breakfast she walked over and checked a few readings on the monitor above Bones' bed. Once she was satisfied she gave the two men a smile and left the room again.

"Let's see what we've got for breakfast shall we?" said Jim as he lifted the lid off of the first bowl. He crinkled his nose and replaced the cover. "That would be Spock's plomeek broth. And these," he stated, pulling the lids off the other two bowls, "must be ours. We're having oatmeal." He held one up to show Bones. "Feel like eating?"

"Sure, I'll try some." He watched as Jim placed one of the bowls on the over-bed tray and wheeled it to his bedside.

"Need help?" asked Jim with a small smirk on his face.

"You're not feeding me like an infant," Bones muttered. "Just raise the head of the bed, please."

Jim pressed the button and lifted Bones into an almost upright position. He positioned the tray in front of Bones and then retrieved a spoon and gave it to him. He then took the second bowl of oatmeal, and a spoon, and sat down in the chair next to Bones' bed. About that time, Spock reemerged from the bathroom, showered, dressed in is Starfleet uniform and completely ready for the day, even if he was stuck in sick bay. He retrieved his own breakfast, and much to the other two's surprise, pulled a chair over close to the bed as well and sat down.

They ate in silence, and it wasn't long before the doctor fell back asleep barely half-way through his meal. After Jim and Spock finished their breakfast they stacked all of the dishes back on the small table. Jim also decided to go back to bed for a while since he hadn't slept much the night before and lay down on his own bed, quickly succumbing to sleep. Spock grabbed a couple of the PADDs he'd requested and sat on a chair in the corner reading over reports.

* * *

Jim looked up from the cards in his hand to eye Spock. "Say it."

"Captain…"

"Spock, you don't have any 2's so say it."

"Go fish, Captain."

Jim grinned and pulled a new card from the deck. He placed it in his hand and waited for Spock to make his turn. After several games of chess (because even a Vulcan can only read the same reports so many times) Jim had suggested they play a card game. The game of "Go Fish" seemed quite illogical to Spock, since there were in fact no fish involved. Despite his protests, Jim had convinced him to play, and he had won the first hand. Jim would also swear that there was a gleam of amusement in the First Officer's eyes when he laid down his last pair of cards on the table. Jim didn't want him to win again.

"Do you hold any 7's, Captain?" inquired Spock. Jim sighed.

"Are you sure you've never played this before?" he asked as he handed over his card. Spock placed the pair down and studied his cards again. Jim shifted in his chair and stifled the groan that had tried to escape. He had spent most of the day in this chair, except when he was up doing things for Bones, and his body was scolding him for it.

At the thought of the sleeping man Jim cast a glance over to his friend and softly smiled at how peaceful he looked asleep. He had been asleep for most of the day, waking to eat lunch and also when he was thirsty. It was almost dinner time, now, and Bones had held his own today. He wasn't getting better yet, but he also didn't appear to be getting worse.

"Captain?" Jim started in his chair and looked at his First Officer. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What makes someone a friend?"

Jim was taken aback by the question. "I'm sorry?"

Spock contemplated on how to phrase what he wanted to ask. "I am not certain as to what traits someone needs to posses for someone else to consider them a friend." He watched as Jim bit his lip, and briefly wondered why it was such a hard question to answer.

"It…it really depends on both people. A friend to one person might not be a friend to another. You…" he paused again, also wondering why it was such a hard question to answer. "…you just have to get along. You have to enjoy being in each other's company."

Spock considered this for a moment. "So that is what makes you and Dr. McCoy such good friends? You enjoy each other's company?"

Jim nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

The two sat in silence for a minute or two before Spock broke the reverie again. "Do you enjoy my company, Captain?"

Jim grinned as he looked at him. "Yeah, I do."

The silence returned for a moment before… "I find your company agreeable also…Jim." The Captain had told him on several occasions to call him by his first name when they were off duty, and he wondered what his reaction would be. The reaction was the grin on Jim's face turning into a full smile.

"Oh, brother," came a gruff voice from the bed. They both looked over to find Bones staring at them. Jim rose from his chair and went over to his side.

"How are you feeling?" He placed one hand up against Bones' forehead. Even though the monitor above the bed had a temperature reading, Jim liked to make sure for himself. He frowned when it seemed warmer than before. Dr. Oberon hadn't been in for a while so Jim walked over the computer panel to page him. Spock took Jim's place by the bed and watched as the doctor's face suddenly changed colors.

McCoy swallowed a couple of times trying to convince his body he really didn't need to see his lunch again. He weakly pointed towards the basin sitting on the nightstand. "Spock could you…" but he didn't finish as he stomach rebelled and he rolled over, throwing up all over the floor. And Spock's shoes. The Vulcan's eyebrows went skyward as he grabbed the basin and held it as the doctor emptied his stomach.

Jim spun around and looked down at Spock's boots. Then, despite his best efforts, a small fit of laughter escaped him. "Spock, when a human turns green it doesn't mean he's embarrassed."

Jim was pretty sure the Vulcan glared at him.

* * *

I'm sorry about the delay. My college courses started and I haven't had the motivation to sit down and write. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, and don't worry, Bones will be more abundant in the next chapter. (You can't expect the guy to say much when he's that sick, right?)


	7. Bones You're Sweaty

See first chapter for information!

A/N: I know this chapter is way overdue, but college has kept me busy. Now that I'm laid up in bed after surgery and on painkillers I thought I'd write a chapter. Hopefully it makes some kind of sense! : )

* * *

It was just after 1830 and the dinner dishes had just been cleared from the isolation room. Dr. Oberon had given McCoy some more anti-nausea medication before he went off shift, but there were no guarantees since they were battling two illnesses and the effects of the antibiotics they were pumping in. And although he had tried, McCoy had failed to keep his own dinner down. Luckily, Jim had been prepared this time and therefore the floor and all shoes in the room were saved.

Now, the doctor was dozing on his bed, Jim was looking over reports from the bridge, and Spock was seated in the corner, trying to meditate. Jim sighed and shifted in his chair and he could swear he heard a strained breath come from his First Officer. He glanced over at the stoic form, and all appeared normal. A few more moments passed and Jim shifted again, causing the chair to squeak lightly on the floor. This provoked one of Spock's eyes open and he stared at Jim.

"Captain?"

Jim looked over at him. "Yes, Spock?"

"May I inquire about your restlessness?"

Jim looked almost sheepish. "I'm sorry. This chair is just uncomfortable. I usually do all this boring stuff sitting in my Captain's chair." He grinned and Spock looked less than amused. "Would it be better if I went and took a shower?"

Spock blinked. "Make it a long one."

As Jim grabbed his bag and went into the bathroom, he couldn't help but smile at being told to "get lost" by a Vulcan.

* * *

_She was a pretty little redhead from the science department that had made it clear on several occasions that she was always ready to try new things…and new people. They had shared a late-night snack together about a week ago. He often found himself in the mess hall when he couldn't sleep and tonight he found her there as she came off the Beta shift. They had almost spent the night together that night, but the Klingons had interrupted their plans. They had spent the next week trying to clean up and now they were enjoying their date._

"_Jim." He smiled at the way his name rolled off her lips. He took a step closer to her and brushed a hair from her face. "Jim," she repeated as she, too, took a step closer._

"_You know, you look even better with almost no clothes on," he whispered._

"_Jim," she said a bit more forcefully, and about an octave lower than before. _

_He raised an eyebrow. Hm._

_Not too put off by the change of voice he pulled off his gold shirt and let it drop to the ground. "Jim." He grinned and took a few more steps towards her and stopped within arms length. He hummed appreciatively._

"_Jim wake up!"_

"What?" he asked groggily as he was pulled from his sleep. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes and looked over to the voice, finding Bones staring at him. "You ok?"

"Yeah, but look at your First Officer." Jim looked over to find Spock asleep, but shivering in bed. He then realized that medical facilities were always kept extra cool and that Spock, being a Vulcan, must have been freezing since the moment they locked him up in here.

"Why the hell didn't he say anything?" he asked sleepily as he stood from his bed.

"Admitting you're cold is probably frowned upon in his society," came Bones' sarcastic voice.

"Yeah, well I can't have two of my top officers sick." Jim grabbed the blanket off of his own bed and placed it over the top of his shivering First Officer. He watched for a moment until the shivering stopped and then turned back to the doctor. He frowned slightly when he realized that Bones looked…shiny. "Bones, you're sweaty."

This earned him a glare. "I didn't notice." By now Jim was at his side. "My fever must be finally breaking."

"Either that or you've lost control of your bladder." Jim grinned and Bones continued to glare. "Ok, what can I do to help?"

"You can help me to the shower."

"Are you sure you should be up?" Jim asked as he came closer to the doctor. He watched as Bones sat up, swayed slightly and laid back against his pillow.

"Probably not," he grumped.

Jim grinned at him. "I'll call a nurse. Maybe she'll give you a bed bath." Bones merely scowled as Jim waggled his eyebrows.

* * *

Spock had noticed the extra blanket on top of him when he awoke, but said nothing about it. He simply had folded it up and placed it on the end of Jim's bed, giving the Captain a small upturn of his lips. Bones was having a good day as well. He had been cleaned up and given new sheets, and since his fever had broken they had been able to cut back on his antibiotics, which meant he wasn't nauseous for the first time in three days.

Breakfast arrived when 0700 rolled around. Spock had Plomeek broth again and Jim and Bones had scrambled eggs. They were all sitting around the small table, Bones included, enjoying their breakfast together. A nurse had just been in to draw blood samples from Jim and Spock to test for any infection they could spread to the crew. The samples had to be incubated for three hours and then they would either be released or started on antibiotics themselves.

"It's agreeable to see you feeling better, Dr. McCoy," Spock commented. Jim looked over at Bones and raised an eyebrow.

"It's good to finally feel human again," Bones agreed, and when Spock opened his mouth to say something, "And yes, Spock, I know that I've been human the whole time." Jim laughed at this and then they finished breakfast in relative silence.

The three hours passed quickly. The three of them had played several hands of "Go Fish". Spock won most of the hands and several "pointy-eared hobgoblin" and "tall green elf" comments had erupted from the doctor.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys." The three men turned to find Dr. Oberon standing in the room…minus the isolation garb.

"I'm taking the fact that you're dressed normally as a good sign," Jim said as he stood up.

"It is a good sign. You're all cleared from isolation. Dr. McCoy will have to stay in sickbay for at least another day, and then I'll clear him to his quarters for rest."

Jim clapped Bones on the shoulder. "Looks like we're all going to live."

"Indeed."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for your patience, and I hope that this chapter is decent. There's probably just one more before this story wraps up.


	8. One Week Later

See first chapter for information!

A/N: Ok, because of my excitement about tomorrow's DVD release I feel compelled to wrap up this story. So, instead of writing my Psychology research paper I'm writing this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_One Week Later_

Bones was sitting at his desk, looking at the incredible amount of reports that had piled up in his absence that needed his approval. It was his first day back to work since being sick, and the paperwork was already giving him a headache.

He had been released from sickbay two days after Jim and Spock had been cleared from isolation, but had been given strict orders to rest in his quarters for the rest of the week. He had almost gone crazy. Jim had stopped by after every shift to visit, and occasionally brought other members of the bridge crew with him, although that only relieved his boredom for a few hours. Dr. Oberon had not allowed him to take any of his paperwork back to his quarters to work on; he had even tried to bribe both Chapel and Jim to retrieve some of the PADDs for him, but they had both refused. Apparently everyone thought that seeing the paperwork from work would stress him out.

And they were right. Apparently the sickbay had been completely crazy in his absence. He didn't know if that made him feel needed, or annoyed. Sure, Oberon was a good doctor, but he was new and didn't have a feel for running a sickbay on a starship. McCoy sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and then sat back in his chair. He needed a drink. And a nap. He may not be sick anymore, but his body was still recuperating from his illness, and he tired easily. Not that he'd admit that to anybody.

He grabbed a PADD of the top of the "need to be reviewed" stack and started reading the report when he heard familiar footsteps and a whistled tune enter sickbay. He looked up just in time to see Jim step inside his office and lean up against the door jamb.

"Hey, Bones, how ya doing?" he inquired as he sunk down into one of the chairs in front of the doctor's desk.

"I'd be fine if it wasn't for all this damn paperwork," he growled lightly.

Jim just grinned. "Ah. One of the many dangers of being a CMO," he quipped.

"Danger?"

"Well, if that pile gets any bigger it could collapse on you." Bones shot him a glare, but it had no effect on the Captain. He simply laughed and stood up. "Let's go get some lunch."

Bones scribbled his signature on the report and placed it on the much smaller "finished" stack and grumbled. "I have a lot of work to do, Jim. You were just pointing that out, remember?"

"Oh, come on. Wouldn't you rather have a nice lunch in the Captain's mess with me?"

Bones rolled his eyes but stood up anyways. Jim turned and headed out the door. "Jim?"

Jim spun around to face the doctor again. "Yeah?" Bones pulled his hand from his pocket and jammed a hypo into the side of Jim's neck, deploying the plunger. The Captain yelped. "What the hell was that?"

"That was the inoculation Oberon says you so conveniently keep forgetting to drop by and get."

"That was a cheap shot."

"Yeah, well you let that hobgoblin carry me through the ship. In my underwear!" Bones hollered as they headed out of sickbay. The one patient in sickbay, a science ensign, looked slightly frightened at the doctor's outburst.

"Oh, you heard about that, did you?" Jim asked, a little worried about what might be in the doctor's other pocket. "You were sick, and they needed to get you to sickbay fast, and…"

"Shut up, Jim." By now they were in the turbo lift and Jim hit the button for the mess. The rode in silence for a few moments. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Thanks." Jim smiled at him, and he smiled back, draping one of his arms around the younger man's shoulders as they rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

A/N: Ok, I know it's incredibly short, but I didn't really know what else to do with it. I hope it ended ok. I want to thank everyone who followed this story, especially the ones that left reviews! It all means a lot to me!


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